


Overexposure

by poisontaster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Character of Color, Gen, Homophobic Language, Interrogation, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-30
Updated: 2007-12-30
Packaged: 2018-04-26 05:39:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4992376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/pseuds/poisontaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hendrickson learns more than he ever wanted to. (follow up to Libido in which neither Sam nor Dean appear)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overexposure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wendy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendy/gifts).



"Okay." Hendrickson folds his hands on the table in a way that Kyle's come to hate. "We're going to go over this one more time."

Kyle sighs and slumps back in his chair. His throat hurts and he's desperately thirsty but he doesn't dare drink the water Hendrickson's partner-in-crime brought. It could be drugged or something. "Look, I don't know what I can tell you that I haven't already." He ignores the rush of gold-tinted, pornographic images that have been his non-stop double feature picture show for the last week.

Hendrickson chuckles to himself and points a finger in Kyle's direction like they're good friends and Kyle's just made a particularly amusing joke. "See, now. You think I'm stupid. But I'm here to tell you, Kyle, my man…I'm not stupid. And I know you're lying to me."

"I told you everything I know."

"Did you have sex with them?" It's a simple enough question, Kyle. Did. You. Have. Sex? I mean, that's why you usually go to that kind of motel, right? Pay by the hour. There's no shame in being a faggot… Oh. I'm sorry. Was that offensive?"

"Whatever," Kyle mutters, hunching down further. At least until the handcuff that holds his right wrist to the thick, steel bar in the table pulls him up short.

"I asked you, _was that offensive_?" Hendrickson repeats, leaning across the table. "When I call you a _faggot_ , Kyle, does that bother you? Or are you proud of being a faggot?" Suddenly, Hendrickson lurches to his feet, slamming the flat of his hand down on the table. Kyle jumps, the chair rocking backward on it's creaking aluminum legs. "I asked you a question, you fucking fairy. And if you don't want to spend the rest of your life in a prison learning the truth about assfucking, then you're going to start telling me the truth, right fucking now!"

"I don't know!" Kyle shouts back. He's tired. He's so fucking _tired_. "I don't know what you want me to say!"

_"Did you have sex with them?"_

"No!"

"Then what were you doing there with them?"

"Nothing!"

"Then why were you there? You said they picked you up in a club, they took you to the motel…why did they do that if it wasn't to have sex with you? Are you a hooker, Kyle? Are you a whore?"

"No, it wasn't like that…"

"Then you tell me what it was like!"

"I just…they wanted me to _see_!" He rakes his free hand through his sweaty hair. "They just wanted me to see."

"See what?" Hendrickson leans into Kyle's space, their faces only inches apart. He doesn't lower his voice even a little though. "What the fuck did they want you to see?"

"Them." Kyle jerks the wrist with the handcuffs reflexively, desperately craving some distance between him and the looming Hendrickson. "They wanted me to see them."

"Them…?" Hendrickson pulls back, deep suspicion thinning his round face as he regards Kyle sketchily. Kyle can tell the moment Hendrickson gets it. The agent backs up in an unsteady, weaving line to plop back down into his chair on the other side of the table, hand springing up to rub thoughtfully at his jaw, half-hiding his expression.

"Are they really brothers?" Now that the cat's out of the bag, Kyle figures there's no harm in asking. Another film reel of Sam and Dean (Winchester, apparently) flickers into existence; the quiet, satisfied sounds of Dean sucking at Sam's cock, Sam's hand spread over Dean's head, petting, casually but thoroughly possessive. The sameness of their faces, their grins, when Dean looked at Kyle and said, _"He's my **younger** brother."_ "Like…really?"

Hendrickson makes a gesture and the door opens behind Kyle with a clank. The Unnamed Agent unlocks Kyle from the table and hauls him unwillingly to his feet. "Wait," Kyle protests, dragging his heels. "At least tell me that! Just…I want to know! Are they really brothers?"

Hendrickson doesn't answer, still stroking his chin thoughtfully.  



End file.
